Clearly I am out of favour with my son at the moment, despite the presents and the cuddles and the stories and the building of train tracks and the tickle fights; no, I am Not Wanted on Voyage these days, superfluous to requirements; last season's stock.
The first inkling I had was on Monday when I went to pick up the spud from his nursery and he blanked me. Not even a sideways glance. His best mate, SHE ran over and gave me a big hug but Charlie? Not a sign. Usually when I arrive he's jumping up and down and saying 'that's MY Mummy! Mummy Mummy Mummy!' and grabbing my legs but on Monday he just pushed me away and started on a new game. I swallowed my pride, grabbed his little hand and propelled him out the door and we were friends again until his Daddy got home at which point it was all 'NO Mummy! Daddy hug! Daddy hug!'.
It's not all bad. He still runs to me in the middle of the night and clambers into my side of the bed for a cuddle, it's me he wakes up in the morning with kisses on the nose but it's been fairly relentless. Today we were on Clapham common with my brilliant friend and her son Einstein of the Bouncy Castle and he wouldn't even let me push him on the swings 'Emma Emma Emma!' he shouted, 'NO Mummy'.
I guess this is it, the moment in which he realises that he is actually an autonomous individual, capable of walking into the toilet, taking down his own trousers, pissing into the loo and flushing without any help at all. Except for the pulling his pants back up bit. And the winding of the loo roll bit.
I'm not allowed to feed him, I have to watch as he delicately eats the tiny dots of food which adhere to his fork until he gives up and shoves his fingers into his plate. I'm not allowed to put him into his high chair, he has to clamber in himself. I'm not allowed to take off his clothes or put them on or give him a kiss on his forehead... or, well not very much really.
I guess I can look on the bright side... the less he needs me the more I can do... hang on, what was it I used to do when I had free time? There must have been something. I'm joking really, the real downside is that all this independence is only half formed; therefore the fridge door gets opened but not shut; the water jug gets taken out but not replaced; drawers get opened but not closed; taps get turned on, but not off and so I trail around in his wake putting things right and normally by the time I'm done he's decided that I'm alright again and he's dragging me off by my thumbs to watch him throw a jigsaw puzzle around the room and blow raspberries at the cat.
I know they, the ones-who-have-gone-before all say that this moment will come but really, I'd quite like to put it off for a while and remain within the inner circle for as long as possible. Or at least until I can afford a maid; one or the other.